


A Stable Love

by duckhyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 10 points for another punny title goes to me, Kinda, M/M, Prompt Fill, Sexual Content, Smut, There's plot, a bit of angst lmao, idk guys, idk wtf i was doing writing this, minor character servant seulgi, prince taeyong, stable boy johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckhyuck/pseuds/duckhyuck
Summary: Let your golden paint fall pink onto my skin. Keep our love just short of the castle walls. They must never know I kiss my own kind."Mother is worried about a bastard child, her concerns are far from reality, she won't be getting a child at all!"





	A Stable Love

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts_VI](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts_VI) collection. 



> Hey what a cool prompt that I totally sabotaged lmao whooooops! This was a lot of fun to write even tho I suck at writing old language. Like this is the most extra thing i have ever written rip. I tried my best tho, I hope its enjoyable still! Ah I'm so nervous about this fic!!!!

Taeyong leans against the thick wooden door, pressing his ear to the rough surface. A strained voice grabs his full attention.

“I do not know of where our child flees to!”

“I would not expect that of thee.” A gruff voice responds. The clink of a teacup against a dish rings out.  “Whom informed you of his nightly departures?”

“I asked of Seulgi, the servant girl, to keep a close watch on him. She reported back to me of his absence during the late hours.”

“Seulgi? My mind cannot paint the portrait.”

“She labors in the kitchen, brings me tea at noon.”

“I see. Did she require bribery?”

“None of the sort. It had been at my understanding she oft spends time secluded with Taeyong. My wisdom of that secret alone led to her easy submission.”

A brief pause in conversation ensues.

“His rebellion shocks you yet I feel indifferent. This occurrence is natural, yes? A youth shall feel the desire to teeter at the edge of their parents’ wishes, feel the moonlit winds and bath in the stars. Surely we have all been there, even you my love.”

“I sigh longingly not because I want to trap our boy. I refuse to nurture him the way my father had done with me. I want to let him live but he is royalty. My beloved, he is too beautiful for this world, too naive and willing to please.”

“Love, you doth not think our son...

“Aye, he may. What’d be the name of our bricked fortitude if it were to be the throne of a bastard child?”

Taeyong removes his ear from the door and slinks down the long hallway. The floors are adorned with a long strip of red carpet with gold tassels along the edges. The walls are littered with torches to illuminate the way. He continues straight and passes the staircase that leads to the main area of the castle. Continuing forward a little more and with a dip to the left he arrives at his own chamber. He opens and closes the door behind him.

Three gold chains pin the left side of his navy blue and red trim coat to the right side. He unclips each letting them dangle loosely. The jacket slips from his shoulders to the stone floor. His fingers pop the buttons of his black dress shirt and he discards it as well a short moment later.

The cool air hits his upper body which is now only covered by a greying singlet. Heavy silver chains fall around his neck glistening in the moon as he wavers near the window. He flicks the latch and the wood framed shutters swing open with a gust of midnight wind.

A glittery cross with a ruby incrusted within the metal sways gently over his chest as he rests, forearms propped upon the windowsill. He leans forward a little more glancing down at the rose bushes infesting the base of the castle, eyes trailing up to the vines climbing messily up to his sill. Blue and lavender buds scatter over the green snakes but they all look white under the moons glow.

“Seulgi, eh?”

Taeyong smirks. Licking his dry lips he his hoists himself up onto the wide window’s ledge.

“She will be quite displeased if I interrupt her now, all the more reason to do so, I suppose,” he chuckles to himself.

He shuffles to the left a little and reaches out against the outer wall for the trellises that the vines grow upon. He hooks his fingers firmly around a piece. _I hope father has instructed the gardeners to uphold maintenance on these,_ he thinks for a moment as the wood creaks. With a large intake of breath he kicks a foot out to catch onto the lattice and then with the momentum he brings the rest of his body swinging out. He grasps quickly with his other hand, he has done this many a times and nonetheless it doesn’t halt any of his fears of a thorny death.

He calms down greatly as he reaches the half way point. The winds aren’t as strong and the shadowy ground is now much clearer to his sights. He finally reaches just above the red beauties so he pushes off landing gracefully on bent knees with a huff.

The night is warm, barely a breeze lingering on low ground, his grey singlet sticks to his back, chest and stomach with sweat. Taeyong runs a hand through his black hair, white at the roots. His father greyed early, so not shockingly at twenty he too found himself with wisps of ageing. The colour made his father look hardened. As for Taeyong it added to his unique and ethereal beauty. The white kept him delicate.

He begins walking the outskirts of the fort to a place at the side of the building where the bushes paused their growth. In between the space was a semicircle shaped window defended by rusted iron bars. A warm yellow light seeped between the rods casting a soft shadow onto the short grass in front.

Taeyong inches towards and sinks down to his knees and forearms. His eyes scan the inside. It is a view into the cooking quarters. He knew the probability of Seulgi working late to prepare for tomorrow was highly likely so he was pleased to see a silhouette dancing around the cupboards and tables.

“Seulgi!” Taeyong called in a harsh whisper.

The young woman dropped a wooden spoon with a squeak. The clattering of the utensil was more alarming then the voice that had surprised her. Her face scrunched up as she carefully picked the spoon up. She stows it away then peers over at the window with a very noticeable eye roll.

“You are lucky, prince, if that had been one of the new iron utensils both our heads would be in the guillotine.”

Taeyong laughs, his teeth bared for the servant. “Nonsense Seulgi darling, just yours would be.”

“You are worse than the left over scraps of liver your highness,” the woman snarled.

Taeyong closed his eyes, a pout forming on his lips, “Your words are always so bitter. How can you eat away at my fragile heart without such a care? I thought your love for me ran deeper than the hole of dung near the stable.”

At that Seulgi breaks her stern facade and chuckles. Her brunette hair bounces and sways with her shaking shoulders.

Taeyong peeks open his eyes and smiles at her youthful look. An attractive girl she is indeed. The grey and white servant outfit flatters her well which makes him wonder what a little colour could do to her always bright face.

“What do you wish for my prince?” She asks kindly, her steps soft as she approaches the window. “Did you not eat enough at dinner? Was the meal not of substantial quality?”

“Seulgi,” Taeyong beckons softly, “It is none of that and your meals are always a delight.”

The concern growing on the other’s face dissipates.

“I—it’s just that mother has found out of my nightly fleeing.” Taeyong watches her face drop but continues, “I overheard her conversation with father tonight, and your name was brought forth by her tongue itself.”

“Taeyong I—

“Seulgi I am not angry, I came to apologize. I want to know, did mother hurt you?” Taeyong extended an outstretched arm to her through the bars. Her appearance had grown significantly smaller in the past few seconds. She took his hand hesitantly in her own and used it as leverage to bring herself up so she was standing on the counter. Their faces were almost level now and Taeyong let go of her hand cupping her face with his instead.

Seulgi grasped an iron bar for support, her eyes falling closed as she leaned into Taeyong’s hand. She nervously covered Taeyong’s with her own. His thumb brushes gently over a faint purple bruise smeared under her left eye.

“Seulgi please...

“She only struck me once my prince,” she spoke quietly. “It hurt only for a fleeting moment.”

Taeyong’s breath caught in his throat and the urge to vomit was brewing within the pit of his stomach. _My fault, all my fault._

“Seulgi, I, my words cannot convey the deepest pains this brings me.” Taeyong can feel his emotions getting the best of him he can confirm it all with the feathery laugh Seulgi releases.

“You are such a weak boy, weeping like a child. How does your face still retain its beauty when covered in salty tears? I envy you, your grace. Will away the waters now and recover the dam. Do not weep for the low like me.”

Taeyong’s tears continue to fall, carelessly staining the rock of the castle. Seulgi brushes her knuckle high along his cheekbone swiping away his sadness.

“I do not wish for you to be touched in any way of harm. You are too dear to me, you are too kind. I shall not burden you with the demons that dwell inside of me. I must free you from the task of sewing your mouth shut for my sake.” Taeyong sniffs and brings the shoulder strap of his undershirt up to dry his face.

“Your highness you couldn’t possibly think I would agree to snipping our interactions in the bud? I could never bring myself to do that.” Seulgi’s voice wavers with panic.

“I would not ask of you to, I shall do it myself.” Taeyong pulls his hand back from Seulgi’s face.

“Taeyong—

—keep far from me, only speak when told. Only tend to me when mother or father permits it or you are called upon. Our times together in the gardens shall seize wholly. I will keep my eyes from reaching your own. You are my mother’s keeper and hers only from now on. You will no longer feel the weight of a heavy hand due to my lack of finding a better ways to confide.” Taeyong finishes his speech; slowly rising back to his feet away from Seulgi’s grasping hand.

“Taeyong you can’t, I won’t listen. Our years of friendship are worth thousands of bruises, no secret is too heavy for me to hold.” Seulgi cries as Taeyong turns his back.

“Seulgi I cannot bare the grief that comes with your torture. I want to spare you before mother’s speculations find the truth,” Taeyong says, eyes on the moon above. “Thank you Seulgi, if there comes a day where freedom comes knocking I will not hesitate to take your hand once again.”

“Taeyong,” It’s a finally cry from the woman gripping at the iron bars tightly, knuckles white. Her tears glistening in the blue light she whispers her final bidding, “I will keep the memories of you and him safe, you need not worry. Just worry that the wound you are leaving me with now is deeper than anything the claws of your mother could bore.”

Taeyong catches her shadow vanishing from the light splayed on the grass and within a short time frame the light vanishes all together.

 

 

<<oo>>

 

 

“Youngho— _ahh_ ” Taeyong squirms as the other male latches his lips incessantly upon his exposed neck. Taeyong relishes the pleasure riding up his spine but his mind begs him to push the man away. So he does with two hands on either shoulder and with slight pressure he gets Youngho to pull back.

Youngho relaxes into the force against him, eyebrows furrowing. “My prince, what is wrong?” He pants quietly, chest rising and falling, locks of brunette sticking thickly to his forehead.

Taeyong lets his shoulders go, raking his fingers down Youngho's exposed upper front. The tips ghost over warm and rough skin and Youngho shivers under the touch.

Taeyong brings his legs to his chest which causes Youngho to hurriedly move from his position on top of him. Now free, Taeyong swings his hips so his legs dangle off the bed. His chest swells with anxiety immediately as the fog of arousal leaks out of his veins.

“Mother knows,” he begins.

Youngho stiffens and the sheets crinkle as his body becomes rigid.

“She knows of us?”

“No but I fear she could as quick as the dawn that is upon us.”

“As of now what has her knowledge acquired?”

“My leave during the late hours, that is all.” Taeyong stands up, pattering a short distance over to the sole window in the room. He’s in the labour quarters. It’s a building detached from the castle itself. It sits behind a thick bustle of trees and is accessible by a narrow path. Light coloured stone is what it’s made of and it houses the servants that slave over the gardens, castle maintenance, and the stables.

Youngho sighs twisting his body so he can sit like Taeyong was previously.

“I am tired Youngho,” Taeyong sobs, sudden, his body practically folding in on itself, “I have done something that has scorched my heart, scared my brain.”

Youngho jumps to his feet, falling beside Taeyong who has now collapsed to his knees.

“My prince what troubles you so? I am here to listen,” Youngho tries calmly.

Taeyong sobs again, head in hands. He rubs furiously at his eyes then runs his hands harshly down his face. He gazes out the window above and before him. “I have shunned out someone who is as dear to me as you.” His lip quivers, trembles coursing through his jaw.

Youngho pulls Taeyong into his lap. It takes some fumbling until they are seated comfortably. Taeyong’s head rests neatly on Youngho’s broad shoulder. A comforting hand trails up and down his shirtless back bringing his final sobs to subtle sniffles.

“Whom is this person that is so dear to my beloved?”

“Seulgi. She has been trapped by the essence of our existence together.” Taeyong sighs, the warmth emitting from the taller one’s body kills the throbbing ache in his skull. “I struck the cord of our bond to free her from any more suffering that will ensue.”

Youngho shifts and Taeyong sits upright in his lap.

“You wish to keep her safe?”

“Aye.”

“You are brave and whole hearted my prince. Selfless, I yearn to heal the wound in your heart.”

Youngho traces an “s” motion over Taeyong’s heart.

“It will heal.” Taeyong says, voice filled with hope, eyes fluttering shut. He hums contentedly as Youngho’s fingers find and stroke the hairs at the base of his neck.

They bask in the absence of moonlight and now in the fresh drops of honey gold dispensing from the young sun. Youngho’s skin has taken kindly to the sun, a thick layer of the warm orb’s gold coats him generously and contrasts greatly with Taeyong’s dim chamber, moon kissed pale. Last summer Taeyong’s skin had welcomed the sun’s paints but his mother was disapproving. His time outdoors cut short and makeup caked his face.

Youngho makes it up to him, letting the shimmer fall off his body onto Taeyong’s forming bright pinks and dark reds onto his canvas skin when they meet intimately.

Taeyong maps out Youngho’s soft cheeks with his thumbs and runs his index finger along his plump lower lip. He drops his finger and takes the elder’s chin between his forefinger and thumb pulling his face nice and close to his own. He leans in and takes his lips, tasting the herbal tea that was brewed only an hour ago, as his tongue finds entrance.

It isn’t charming but Youngho smells of the stables. His mother’s nose would shrivel in distaste but in the years Taeyong has been acquainted with Youngho the scent has morphed into a giver of comfort. When he walks into the stable all he thinks of is Youngho, he has never associated something so intently before.

Youngho’s built figure gives a sense of masculinity to the smell and as it tends to be, opposes Taeyong’s antique and floral fragrance. He lets the smell consume him, fill him.

His mouth becomes a room for Youngho’s tongue, nothing inside is unfamiliar. When they’re together Taeyong can only describe it as the feeling he gets when his father unrolls a map of the kingdom. How each time he pulls it out into view Taeyong can label anything and everything but there’s a sense of excitement in knowing you know it all. With Youngho, he knows it all. He knows what drives the boy to madness, makes him moan his name and take Taeyong rough and hard the way his body occasionally aches for.

He feels safe drowning in Youngho.

His heart is thrumming, their lips un-stick when they part, and a tad bit of saliva drips onto Taeyong’s chin.

“Taeyong—my pri—

“Darling, you know this by now, having my heart requires no formalities. Seulgi yelled at me informally too, albeit I was quite the brat and deserving of her wrath,” Taeyong giggles at his memories.

“Taeyong,” Youngho smiles, his eyes curling into wonderful crescents, “there are murky seas shadowing your face in deep wells, you are tired my love. Let us sleep.”

Taeyong licks his lips. The tides in his body are raging, the undertow threatening to drag him into eternal slumber. He won’t succumb though, not when Youngho’s holding him, mouth kissed raw and shoulders rising in sync with his equally fast beating heart.

He burns holes into Youngho’s eyes with his signature glare; he knows this because the other lets out a soft groan and begins to bite his own bottom lip.

“Youngho, if you take me to that bed with the intent to sleep I will see to it that you bathe where the horses do.”

“I—Taeyong!”

“Bed me. Youngho.”

Youngho scoops up Taeyong into his arms without any further hesitation, hot skin sticking together.

“As you wish...my prince,” he says with a cheeky grin.

He lies Taeyong down. Taeyong feels the dip of the soft quilts layered beneath him, he knows the comfort of his bed would be spectacular but for the sake of secrecy blankets on hay will do.

Youngho hovers over Taeyong the way they were before Taeyong had lost a piece of his mind. From there it is all too easy for them to fall back into a rhythm.

Taeyong takes two of Youngho’s fingers into his mouth, suckling on them, covering them thoroughly in his spit. Youngho watches him with hooded eyes. Satisfied with his work Taeyong takes Youngho’s wrist pulling the latter’s fingers free from his mouth.

“One to start,” he whispers and the taller nods.

He pushes his pants past his thighs letting his feet kick them off the rest of the ways. His bare body is on full display for the other. His exposure is rewarded with a damp finger prodding at his entrance, teasing. His breath catches in his throat and he whines, willing Youngho to breach him.

The breach happens and a sharp gasp crawls out of him. His body goes rigid. Youngho treats him gently, kissing the creases on his face and giving him hushed praises.

He relaxes and the finger presses deeper, curling, working him open till a second can situate itself right beside it. Two is contenting, the scissoring stretching his walls burns, pleasure zips up and down his spine and sends little quivers through his thighs.

Youngho moans as he clenches tightly around his fingers. Taeyong’s tight heat becomes a burden on his mind as arousal fucks with his conscience’s clarity.

Taeyong whines, head turning left and right. “More— _ahh_ —Youngho more...please.”

Taeyong knows he’s asking too soon but he wants that extra stretch.

Youngho, the ever obedient lover, graces Taeyong’s hole with a third digit which mercilessly stretches and curls alongside the others.

Taeyong screams and squirms, pain cinches his lower back. He’s felt it before but that doesn’t stop the tears that prick out of his squeezed shut eyes.

“Darling, why do you beg for so much pain?” Youngho asks with a lilt in his voice.

“For a stable boy you are not as rough and ruthless as the upper class assumes you to be. I am grateful for it in every instance except for this—

Taeyong’s voice breaks on his last word as Youngho twists his fingers and curls just grazing the sweetest spot within his body.

“There, _ah_ Youngho, there!” Taeyong calls out, breathless.

Taeyong takes his half hard member into his hand, stroking it lazily now that Youngho is working tirelessly over the pleasure point of his being. His member stands completely erect in no time. He becomes dazed in the pleasure and his hips begin to roll themselves down onto Youngho’s fingers.

“Fuck Taeyong.” Youngho growls, the visual of Taeyong fucking himself onto his fingers overwhelms his senses. His own arousal strains inside of his slacks.

Taeyong calls out for more like a mantra until he finally takes action on his own accord. He grabs Youngho’s wrist pulling his fingers free with a whimper at the loss. With some struggle he manoeuvres their bodies so Youngho is lying beneath him and he is straddling his waist.

He tugs at the sides of Youngho’s slacks and relishes in the fact that the elder doesn’t wear undergarments. Youngho’s thick cock springs free from its confines. The sight of it only makes Taeyong work quicker. He tosses the pants to the floor and wastes no time putting his palm on the tip of the member smearing the precome built up at the slit. Youngho hisses at the contact. Taeyong drives the substance down his cock, spitting in his other hand to increase the slickness.

Youngho’s hips jump off the bed and Taeyong smirks.

“Eager for the pleasantries aren’t we?”

“Indeed my prince.” Youngho says with strained annoyance as Taeyong grips tightly around his member’s base.

“Worry not my love, tonight I’ll do the labour.”

Youngho groans, Taeyong rarely takes initiative to take control but when he does, Youngho crumbles to a mess. “Be careful darling.”

Taeyong hums, lifting his hips and bringing the tip of Youngho’s cock to his entrance. Three fingers are enough to lessen the pain but only after some work at it. Taeyong cries out at the intrusion, sinking down until his ass cheeks meet with Youngho’s hips.

“My God,” Youngho cries reaching up to swipe away Taeyong’s hair from his forehead.

Taeyong holds off from moving and lets his body adjust to the girth and length. He can never quite get used to the feeling of Youngho’s cock entering him.

Youngho takes Taeyong’s member in his other hand, stroking it firmly letting the other find distraction in the feeling it brings.

After a few deep breaths Taeyong finds the will to move, he flexes his thighs making it halfway off Youngho’s cock before he falls down to fill himself once more. Moaning, he falls forward, hands bracing himself on Youngho’s chest.

Youngho watches Taeyong’s necklace dangle above him, swaying back and forth with every up and down motion Taeyong makes. His cheeks are tinted red, lips ravaged and his skin soaked in sweat.

“Beautiful,” he mutters.

Taeyong mewls at the praise.

Their eyes meet and the temperature increases.

Taeyong’s mouth falls open and his eyes fly shut after a certain thrust down. A silent scream fills the room and Youngho knows he’s found it once again.

Both of Youngho’s hands make their way to Taeyong’s tired hips. Filled with lust and adrenaline he practically manhandles Taeyong up and down onto his cock, easily too, with Taeyong still weakly keeping his momentum up.

“God Youngho, right there.” Taeyong chokes. His one hand slides from the elder’s chest to the space beside his head while the other goes back to working on fisting his own cock.

Youngho is still working a brutal pace, hips starting to stutter in sign of his pending orgasm.

They both find the energy within themselves to connect their lips, more tongue than anything else truthfully. It’s dirty, messy and breathy. It’s hot and overwhelming.

It brings Taeyong to the edge of infinity. Course heat brews in his gut, coiling like a snake around his insides. A swipe at the tip of his cock and lick into his mouth has him wailing his release. It lands hot on Youngho’s abdomen and covers his fingers.

Youngho slows his pace, flips them over and resets his speed. Taeyong’s Os and Ahs are a familiar and favourite melody to Youngho’s ears.

Taeyong, completely milked, screams at the oversensitivity. He shakes, surrounded by all things Youngho and filled with them too. Youngho shouts his name and shoots his release into him. Warmth spreads into the younger’s body.

A shock surfs through Youngho’s body, going taut.

His softening cock slips from Taeyong’s body and slumps falling gracelessly next to him.

The emptiness chills Taeyong but the feeling of Youngho’s cum lights a fire on his cheeks. Kisses are peppered over his collarbones, neck and face. They catch their breath.

“Sleep my love, no one will interrupt our slumber.”

Taeyong can barely keep his eyes open, he stays awake long enough to register Youngho’s arms curling around him. The sleep takes him like a tidal wave.

_Youngho you are my most precious._

 

 

<<oo>>

                                                                                                                         

 

Their lives together began with Taeyong at the age of seven. The other, at the time, was eight. The elder was being trained at the stables since his father who owned the position previously had fallen ill. Youngho would be taking over full responsibilities.

Taeyong was hesitant of the boy at first. He was the first child other than himself to step foot upon royal soil. His curiosity had reached its peak then, naturally.

Their connection was simple, Youngho spoke a lot but he spoke soft. He taught Taeyong how to ride his first horse. He cleaned his scrapes when lessons went awry. He was Taeyong’s protector, it all went unsaid.

Touches innocent at first, then became intense with age.

At sixteen Taeyong couldn’t keeps his eyes from watching Youngho bathe in the lake. He saw the flex of strong arms and the twist of a smooth back and he was so far gone. His mouth dried and his face reddened as his gaze fell lower upon Youngho’s body.

When Youngho touched him, be it a simple hand on the back he wanted it to stay, his body itched for more. He found himself growing nervous to be in the other’s presence.

He was confused. Being intrigued with a body much like his own seemed comfortable but he knew the topic was taboo. Yet, something within him found itself dying to reach out to Youngho anyway.

Father raised him to be anything but a coward.

His garments shed he joined Youngho in the chilled water.

Damp lips, wet skin on skin, inexperience. It all had Taeyong falling fast for the gentle stable boy.

 

 

<<oo>>

 

 

“Sit child.”

Taeyong adjusts the third gold chain coming loose on his coat and takes a seat across from his mother. They’re meeting within her quarters. Pink fabric garnishes the furniture and itches at the palms of Taeyong’s hands.

Her expression is stone. Eyebrows straight and eyes cold, Taeyong can’t help but feel the dense shift in the atmosphere.

“Your face suggests something wracks at your mind mother, is there an unsettling matter I am unaware of?”

“ _Mmm_ it certainly seems that way Taeyong.” She begins, picking at the pulled threads around the cuff of the arm of her dress. “Your father found it more favourable to keep the topic tucked away for later but I doth not find the strength within myself to keep it concealed. You leave when the night comes into attendance.”

His throat feels like sand paper, _will mother see the shake in my eyes?_

“Seulgi could only utter so much. It was an exhausting quest for information.”

Taeyong winces at her name and he knows for sure his mother caught that.

She smiles but it isn’t a pleasant one. “Child, convey to your mother only truth or thine tongue will be nicked.”

Taeyong shudders. “Mother, I go not far, my safety is always accounted for.”

“Taeyong, generality does not sit well with me. Where doth you go? Be specific.”

Her voice cuts his neck leaving him gasping for his next words. All he wishes for is Youngho’s comforting embrace.

“Taeyong, speak, the family’s name and bloodline are things that I will not have tarnished. Naivety is no longer a selected excuse for you. A young man will eventually seek pleasures if the castle walls do not obtain what he desires. If you are breeding the whores with royal blood I instruct you to tell me so.”

Taeyong opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a knock on the chamber’s door.

“Come in,” his mother beckons with irritation.

The door opens with a loud creak, Seulgi steps in with a tray of tea.

“Pardon my intrusion, afternoon tea, your highnesses.”

His mother nods at her and he watches Seulgi enter deeper, setting the tray down on the table next to his mother. Her face never quite meets his. Not even when she places a filled cup next to him. It feels like her fist is squeezing his heart. _It was my decision anyway._

She leaves, the door closing with its signature creak.

“I await your response Taeyong; I have all the hours of the day on my side.” Her nails clack against the wooden arm rest.

“I go to the labour quarters.” Taeyong gives up, “Mother, you shouldn’t fear a bastard child, a child doesn’t fit the possibility.”

Her teacup hits and shatters on the floor, hot tea pooling at her feet.

 

 

<<oo>>

 

 

He has dampened the pillow with his tears; he fears that mold will grow upon it. He clutches his sheets, cocooning himself in the linen like he has for the past three days.

His mother forbade his departure, locking his window with iron chains, guarding his door with men. He sniffles at the thought of having lost Youngho’s presence. He’s a weak mess and he hates to admit it. He finds his hair has greyed significantly more in these past few days. The stress of a restricted love has taken a toll on his physical wellbeing.

He hushes himself to pathetic little whimpers, enough so that hears the murmurs of the guards outside his room talking to someone.

Then his door opens, light from the hallway illuminates his dim room. The door closes and a dark figure nimbly dances the chamber and draws the curtain shadowing his window back.

“You’re a fool.”

“And so are you for disobeying orders.”

“Up yours, your highness.”

Taeyong snorts.

Seulgi seats herself on the edge of his bed. Her hand comes up, stroking his hair. “Such a child, such a foolish little child.” She clicks her tongue.

Taeyong can’t help but cry a little more at her affection.

“Hush now, he’s worried about you.” Seulgi wipes his tears. “He came to me in a panic; I shared with him your state. His face had fallen tremendously. He has an offer, though he fears you will not hear it out.”

“I will listen.”

“He wishes to take you away, from everything.”

“Duties?”

“Yes.”

“The castle? Responsibilities, everything?”

Seulgi hums.

“God what does that man fear? Even if my mother were to die tomorrow and he asked me today I would say yes.”

Seulgi laughed, “ _Oh_ how I knew that heart of yours would trip.”

“It wants what it wants, Seulgi am I crazy to listen to it?”

“To listen to love which is shared between two is crazy but to listen to the heart which is your own, that is authentic, that is beautiful. Listen to your heart. Go to him, I will make sure you make it to him.”

Taeyong took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “Seulgi, will you accompany us?”

“I must listen to my heart too Taeyong and it says to stay here at the castle where another heart beats for it.”

Taeyong grins. He fills with warmth at the thought of someone making Seulgi happy as she deserves to be.

 

 

<<oo>>

 

 

“Spending time with you was the royal life Youngho.”

“So it seems...

“Okay, it will take time for me to adjust so I’m only travelling if you can handle my orientation into the new environment.” Taeyong whines.

Youngho pecks the pout off Taeyong’s lips, “You will be fine, you are humble, new life will come easy.”

Taeyong’s cheeks flush, “Alright, help me onto the horse my _stable boy_.”

Youngho chuckles, “With pleasure, my _highness_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh I'm so scared no one will like this, it seemed so far from my comfort zone. So if you made it here I really thank you with all my heart. It means so much!!! Your thoughts on this work are always appreciated. I always want to better myself!! Thank you <3


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